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creativewritingpracticekc · 11 months

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Initium Novum - Hayffie

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

MINORS DNI - WRITING PRACTICE - NOT EDITED - NO TIMELINE

Warnings: PTSD, Nightmares, Depression, Undisclosed Pill Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Death, House Robbery, cursing,

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Haymitch knew he should stop talking, but he couldn't help but release everything on her. The years of anger, torment, and guilt made the words spewing out of his mouth that much more pronounced and painful.

The screaming match had started the moment she had knocked on his door in the middle of the night. Her bag with her and a tremble in her limbs. It escalated fast as they had screamed their past failings at each other. Who knows who had started it.

"It's all your fault." he spit, "You killed all of those kids, you focused on your riches and manners while Districts starved and rioted."

He couldn't even see her face through the fog in his mind. He didn't notice she had stopped moving entirely, her wild eyes glossy at his cruel words.

"I should have let you rot in that cell... I wish they had killed you."

The silence was tense as he blinked, his eyes focused, and he realized he was now alone. The sound of the door falling shut should not have been as loud as it sounded to him.

He grabs the bottle of white liquor from it's forgotten place on the floor.

Serves her right.

---

Effie tries to control her breathing as she flees District 12. Her heart shattering the rest of its emotional remnants as she quickly hops on the departing train.

She had no one.

She had been stupid and naive to believe her years of servitude made a difference. Furthermore, she was stupid to believe anyone cared for her.

Right after the war, she had attempted to group up with Johanna and Annie in District 4. Upon her arrival, she had a similar conversation to the one she is currently fleeing.

All your fault...

She cups her hands around her ears to attempt to block out her thoughts. It was futile, but she was crumbling.

Her family had been round up and murdered while she had been tortured in that Capitol cell. Her property and assets seized by the new democracy.

All your fault...

Her hands shake as she puts her keys in the lock. The dingy door needing a rough shove in order to open properly.

She quickly goes to find the pills she had left behind and forces a few down her throat. As she puts down the bottle, she notices for the first time that her items have been moved.

Her eyes fill with tears as she looks around her already shitty apartment. The entire place had been ransacked and robbed.

She let out a squeak as she looked up and realized what had been painted on the ceiling.

CAPITOL WH*RE

She throws her pills in the bag she's holding and begins to collect anything and everything she can fit inside it. A lot of her items had been broken and destroyed beyond repair, but it did make choosing a lot easier.

She tosses the key on the floor and simply closes the door behind her. She wasn't going to return here. Her heart raced as the pills started taking effect.

Running fast, she manages to catch up with the train as it begins to slow. Her legs nearly giving out as she jumps on board and slumps into an empty cart. Her eyes were no longer able to stay open for her, so she pulls her hat further down her face and rests against the seat.

---

He feels the guilt lay on him a week later as the pounding in his head increases. He didn't mean anything he had said to her. Not only that, but he knows he has to make it right.

"Plutarch...yeah, listen, is Effie with you? Is she back in the Capitol?" he asks after the man answers. He winces at the tone of his own voice, since it was pretty late into the night.

"I was going to ask you the same thing." Plutarch admits after a sigh, "After the break in, I assumed she had retreated to Twelve, but I haven't heard from her."

"The break in? What break in?" he demands, that certainly catches his attention.

"Oh dear.... Well, word got out where she was staying and with her being the last remaining escort..." He sighs, "What I do know is that she was seen two days ago getting on a night train, so she was alive then."

His heart catches in his throat. This was bad.

"Keep an eye out for where she was heading, would you?" Haymitch says finally.

Plutarch agrees and they end the call with that. He rubs furiously at his face before settling into a deep scowl.

Tomorrow, he was going to have an employee write the schedule down.

He hopes she continues with her travels, or he will have to hunt through Districts to find her.

---

She is thankful no one is in the cart with her as she wakes. Her heart beating fast due to the nightmare she had just woken from. She rubs the sleep from her eyes and recognizes that the train is currently in District 6.

This can do for now...

It takes a few weeks, but she begins to adapt to the surrounding environment. After a few bottles of hair dye and a serious cut, she begins to look like a different person.

She even manages to find a job cleaning the night trains. She is certainly grateful for it as it helps fund her smoke and pills habit.

Most of the time, she is pretty messed up while she is working. No one ever speaks to her when she does see them. When she's at home, in her dimly lit house, she escapes in any shred of bliss she manages to get.

She feels herself start to numb her internal wounds with the repetition. She knows it won't last forever, but she decides to enjoy it for as long as she can.

One night, about six months later, she is struggling to keep her eyes open as she wipes down the seats with the dingy rag they provided her.

In her blissful and sleepy state, she doesn't see the man with his head bowed in the next cart. When she does, she simply mumbles a quick "excuse me" as she passes. She almost makes it to the door when she feels a hand wrap around her arm.

Her eyes snap open wide as she darts out of the man's grip. She jumps a good two feet away from him before she registers he is talking to her.

"I'm sorry." the man says, "I'm looking for my friend, have you seen her?"

A picture is thrust in her line of vision. Her body having been mostly faced away from him and her eyes darting from his legs to the door. Pins prick her skin in a rush of feeling when her eyes register the photo.

That's me...

Haymitch...

She could hear it now in his voice, and she could smell his cologne. She simply shakes her head once more and forces herself to calmly exit the cart. Thankfully, he doesn't follow her.

---

Haymitch frowns at the interaction with the gaunt train keeper. There was something about her that made him analyze the situation over and over again until he notices the ride has concluded, back to the station in Six.

He steps off the station and notices the woman does the same. He ducks behind a pillar and watches her glance around before leaving the station. Against his better judgement, this time he follows her.

She unknowingly leads them out of the tunnel and into the residential area. He continues to follow her, wary of her suspicious behavior. As she passes a streetlight, she looks to the side of her, and Haymitch halts.

Effie...

She quickens her pace as she feels the hairs standing up at the back of her neck. Her hand moving closer to her purse, clutched against her chest.

He quickens his pace as well, fully intending on catching up to her. When he reaches her, he grabs her shoulders and spins her to face him.

"Effie…" He pauses, feeling the cold barrel on his temple.

""CP1, but at this range..."she grunts out, the drugs not allowing her brain to register the man attempting to grab her.

"Effie..."he tries again, he grabs both of her arms with his hands and looks into her dilated eyes, "Effie...it's Haymitch."

"I know." she says after a long minute of blinking, slightly lowering the gun.

"I thought I would never see you again." He admits, his voice catching in his throat.

She puts the gun back in her purse, simply turning away from him, and continues to walk home. Haymitch followed by her side, her quiet nature signalling alarm bells in his mind.

"Could we talk?" He asks as she unlocks the door to her house.

"Whatever." she stated, her voice sounding far away. She absent-mindedly fixes them both a drink. The white liquor sloshing in the small cups as she thrusts one out to him.

"Look, I'm sorry sweetheart," he says gently, taking the glass from her, "That stuff I said... I didn't mean any of it."

"I know," she says simply, draping herself along the drab couch, her eyes fluttering shut.

He pauses for a second, his brows furrowing as he notices she is deeply asleep. He grumbles as he collects all the pill bottles and liquor in the small house.

They were going sober, he decided.

He can't look at her as he goes through her belongings. He knows she will be angry with him when she wakes, but he can't let her kill herself any longer.

He thinks about how she looked when he first saw her. The sharp black bob, a stark contrast to the paleness of her flesh. The lifeless look in her dilated blue eyes that accentuated the deep bags beneath them.

All my fault...

---

She groans as she forces herself to wake from the horrid nightmares she was facing. The light in the house being too bright for her hungover head.

She almost hurls as she smells something cooking in the kitchen. Her heart skips as she registers that someone is currently in her kitchen.

Her steps make small pats in the floor, she creeps into the kitchen and lets out a breath when she recognizes the mess of dark curls.

"Haymitch." she breathes, "What are you doing here?"

The man in question whips around and frowns. His gaze studying her own.

"I met up with you last night," he says after a beat, "I apologized to you."

"Okay...what are you doing here now?"

"Cooking you breakfast." he grins at her, she hates that it makes her stomach fill up with butterflies.

"Haymitch, I don't want to eat." she admits, her head pounding.

"You will," he says simply, handing her a glass of water.

"Why do you even care?" she can't stop herself from asking.

"Effie..." he begins, "You know how I feel about you."

She rolls her eyes and makes to move away from him. His hands stopping her from going too far as they cup her shoulders.

"Effie, I love you," he tries again, firmer this time, "I love you, and I am so sorry for what I said to you. I... I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

Her motions still as her eyes search his own. She couldn't detect any malice or hesitation.

"Haymitch... I-"

"Don't say anything just yet sweetheart," he forces a grin, "This will take some time but just nod if you want me to stay. If not, I'll be out of your hair come the next bus."

She thinks about it for a minute, as much as her pounding head will allow her. Finally, letting love decide, she hesitantly nods her head.

That's all Haymitch needed to smile brightly at her and continue cooking their food.

I love you...

Fin

#hunger games #effie trinket #effie #haymitch abernathy #haymitch x effie #hayffie

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shesasurvivor · 3 years

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Are ya ready, kids?

I can't hear you!

Great-great-grandmother shesasurvivor of the fandom elders from ancient yore has finally caught up on her IRL responsibilities, and is finally ready to join in on #thgagain to reread the BEST TRILOGY OF BOOKS, RULER OF MY HEART. Because once you're on this train, you're never off.

Anyways! Tonight, I'm going to settle down and read the first chapter. I'm so behind! I thought I'd jot down some thoughts and write them out as I go along.

Let's start!

(I don't know why this post has taken on a Spongebob theme.)

Lots has been said about this, but the fact that Katniss starts the trilogy out by waking up alone in bed, separated from her loved ones, and ends the story in bed (in more than one way) with Peeta... I love it.

Oh, and the way her relationship with Buttercup evolves from beginning to end, too!

Now that I've read The Underland Chronicles, I can't help wondering if the comment about protecting the goat cheese from hungry rats is supposed to be a (very mild) reference to those books, lol.

Likewise, now that we've seen more of District 12's past from The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, the comment about the animals that "used to threaten (their) streets" is a little amusing, in a sad kind of way.

LOL, the symbolism, the imagery of an arrow stuck in a loaf of bread. Barely a few pages into the book, and Peeta is already coming between Katnis and Gale. ;)

WHAT HAPPENED TO MRS. EVERDEEN'S APOTHECARY SHOP? WHAT HAPPENED TO HER PARENTS? Did they disown her? If so, are they still alive? Did they die? I can only assume they died, but why and when? So many questions!

The description Katniss gives of the warm summer day teeming with life has always been one of my favorites. So beautiful, but so bittersweet when you think about it in terms of what's going to happen down the road for them.

The comment about Katniss being jealous when she overhears the girls wanting Gale... on the surface level, I think it's easy to read this as her having secret feelings for Gale. Maybe it's just my Everlark-loving goggles on, but I've always thought it was a red herring on SC's part, and that Katniss really is just resistant to the idea of change. I know there's an interpretation (that I agree with, among others) that one thing Gale represents is the past, and Katniss's old life, so I think it makes sense narratively if Katniss is just trying to resist the idea that things will one day change.

Continuity Issues: Gale says that they can go fish at the lake. But in Catching Fire, Katniss tells us she never went there with Gale. Are there two different lakes?

"It could keep a family in bread for months." Hmmm I wonder if anything related to bread is going to be important to this story.

*draws mental parallels between "Tuck your tail in, little duck* and Ducktales*

I always wonder if Prim and Mrs. Everdeen ate much of the meal Katniss gathered for them that morning.

"He lists the disasters, the droughts, the storms, the fires, the encroaching seas that swallowed up so much of the land, the brutal war for what little sustenance remained." Everyone always asks what happened to the rest of the world in the books, but the answer is right here. The rest of the world has been destroyed.

This whole portion where she discusses the history of Panem and The Hunger Games really makes me want to read Ballad again. I wish SC would publish a whole encyclopedia about this world.

WE FINALLY KNOW WHO THE OTHER VICTOR FROM 12 WAS. Imagining the mayor reading Lucy Gray Baird's name. Suzanne Collins read my post and answered my wish.

Is it just me, or does Haymitch trying to give Effie a hug seem really out of character for him? Is there more going on here? I'm not really a Hayffie shipper, but idk, maybe this scene is subtext? Or is something else going on?

NO NOT PRIMROSE EVERDEEN!

Aaaaand, that's the end of chapter 1! Will I do another post tomorrow for chapter 2? Combine my thoughts for 2 and 3? Who knows! I sure don't! (lol) Happy Hunger Games everyone!!!!

#thgagain #THG #The Hunger Games

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ellanainthetardis · 7 years

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4, 15, 23, 28

Ask me otp questions from this list!

4: Which one tells the other not to stay up all night and which one stays up all night anyway?

Effie keeps trying to get Haymitch to go to bed at a decent hour but Haymitch hates night time. It’s difficult for him to chase his demons away at that time and he’s scared of going to sleep, of having nightames even when he drinks heavily to prevent that so he always go to bed late - not to say early morning. Eventually, she manages to get him to go to bed with her but it takes a while.

15: Which one screams about the spider and which one brings the spider outside?

Effie hates bugs in all shapes and forms. She will scream when she sees a spider and she won’t apologize for it. Haymitch either brings it outside or crushes it when he’s too lazy to do so.

23: Who comes home from work to see that the other one bought a puppy?

I want to say Effie but it’s fifty/fifty. If the puppy is cute, there is a definite possibility that Effie will fall in love and bring it home (although I see her more as a cat person). As for Haymitch...

I really hc him as that person who brings strays home all the time. It starts with geese, then it’s the cat that lurks in the back yard and that isn’t his at all but that he still leaves scraps for only to save the geese of course, he sees a puppy in need of a home he will bring it home until they find him a family come on Effie and then the puppy will stay forever and it will start again with the next animal he finds.

28: Which one owns a pet that the other is absolutely terrified of?

Well, obviously Haymitch XD I don’t think Effie ever gets fond of the geese and the geese have no love for her. She’s terrified of their teeth and every time he forgets to close the door and they wander inside she will scream and perch on the closest piece of furniture she can find.

#hayffie #hc #ask game #thanks!#you didn't say what pairing so I assumed XD #anon #ask

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ears-awake-eyes-opened · 3 years

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Wedding Colors (Part 2)

(Hayffie ❤️🧡💛💚💙💖. An exploration of Effie’s evolving character as she faces past and present personal intensities while making preparations for Finnick and Annie’s wedding.)

9:00—mentoring. The buzz that Haymitch had been feeling was killed even before Peeta kicked him out of the hospital room.

The boy was angry. “What if I’d murdered the people who were trying to help us because I didn’t know they were trying to help us!!? Do you think anyone would be asking me to frost a cake for Finnick’s FUNERAL if I’d slit his throat!? I can’t even look at you right now. Just go.”

It didn’t help that Haymitch’s eyes looked so much like Katniss’s.

At least Peeta was becoming more lucid. Haymitch took the boy’s justifiable anger as a positive sign and respected his request to be alone.

At the other end of the hospital, he opened the girl’s door to find Johanna plugged into Katniss’s IV. They both looked up but neither moved an inch.

“Jealous?” Johanna sneered.

“Not my drug of choice, sweetheart,” though her comment was spot-on. To Katniss he asked, “Are you okay with this?”

“It’s fine.” She winced, and he glared at Johanna.

“What? She says she’s fine. Plutarch took her for a walk yesterday afternoon. He probably just held her leash too tight.”

“I can tell them I don’t need the morphling anymore...” Her threat wasn’t far from the truth, and Johanna knew it.

“It’s nothing personal. Plutarch has us all on leashes. Even your *mentor* there.” Johanna looked pointedly at the communicuff on Haymitch’s wrist.

Her mockery pissed him off.

“Plutarch talked to you yesterday?” he asked Katniss.

“Yeah. He’s planning a circus, and he gave me the job of looking happy.”

“You. Happy? I would’ve cast somebody else.”

“I can do it. Since the circus is Finnick and Annie’s wedding.”

“Right. ...I’m going to walk away now and pretend I didn’t see you two... bonding.” He motioned to the IV then said to Johanna, “If she’s screaming in pain later, I’ll be ripping that port out of your arm myself.”

Sarcasm dripped along with the morphling. “Sobriety has had such a calming effect on you.”

“Something for YOU to look forward to soon.”

Johanna’s expression was steady as stone. ...Almost. Nobody would have noticed the subtle flinch, except for an addict.

“Katniss, I’ll see YOU later.” Haymitch closed the door behind him.

So the kids knew about the wedding before he did. What’s the point of wearing this *shackle* on my arm if Plutarch doesn’t tell me anything?!

Haymitch made his way back to Peeta’s room and stood in the corridor looking in through the one-way mirror. The boy was sitting at the art table which orderlies had brought in days before. Delly Cartwright was by his side. They were painting with watercolors. Peeta’s brush stroked out an ocean scene with cresting waves and sea life. With the paintbrush in his hand, Peeta was calm. In that moment, he seemed almost like himself.

The damn communicuff buzzed, and a message from Plutarch appeared on the screen. “Change of schedule. Report for exercise at 10:00. Details await you there.”

Being outdoors sounded better than being shut out by the kids or seeing them in pain. They were still alive, but they were messed up. Like me... Or worse.

Mentor. Johanna’s ridicule settled in his bones.

***

10:00—exercise The staircase to the surface had been rebuilt quickly after the bombing. The tight control in 13 produced efficiency. He’d give Coin that much credit.

Climbing the stairs was more exercise than he’d get in the yard. By the time he got to the top, he was breathing hard.

“Now that’s a familiar sound.” Effie’s voice came from the shadows and lit him up.

He moved toward her. “Me out of breath? Typical.”

“Last night...”

“Not typical. ...And more fun than this.”

He was surprised to see her. She wore a heavy coat and carried a large canvas sack over her shoulder. Additional bags and a set of leaf scoops were on the floor near her feet. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going for a walk in the woods —with you. Plutarch’s orders.”

Haymitch was confused, but too amused to not play along.

“I see you’re bringing a weapon.” He tugged at the pruners which were hooked through a belt loop on her pants. “Are you gonna protect us from carnivorous trees?”

“Just me, sweetheart. You’re going to protect yourself.” She held out a second set of pruners.

As he took them, he lingered on the fabric covering her hand. “Is this the latest fashion?”

“Cloth is more practical than lace, but must EVERY stitch of fabric here be gray or white?!” She held out a pair of work gloves for him too.

“If I’m wearing these, then how am I supposed to touch you?”

“No touching, honey. We have a project to do. Coin is giving us two hours to gather enough foliage for the district to make wedding decorations.”

“I heard her announcement asking for volunteers. I just didn’t think she was talking about me.”

“You are here at MY request.”

He took a half-step toward her. “So you’re giving me orders to spend two hours in the woods with you without touching you?” He took another half-step and felt the buzz return as their clothing brushed.

“We aren’t in the woods yet,” she said, “You can touch me now...”

The hair on his chin grazed her temple. “Where?”

Warmth flooded her. “You choose.”

He stepped back. “Sorry, sweetheart. If you get to make me a gardener for two hours, then I get to make you wait at least that long.”

“Haymitch! Don’t bother turning me on if you’re just going to make me wait!”

“Well, aren’t YOU the pot calling the kettle black. ...Am I turning you on?”

“You KNOW you are—“

“I have your trackers.” They were interrupted by a security guard, armed with an automatic rifle equipped with a spotting scope.

“Lex, this is Haymitch. He’ll be the other person accompanying us.”

“Glad to meet you,” the guard said as he lifted Effie’s pant leg to fit the tracker on her ankle.

“Wait a minute. This guy’s coming with us, AND he gets to touch you?”

“No need for envy. ...He’ll be touching YOU too.” Effie smirked.

The guard proceeded to clamp the second tracker onto Haymitch’s ankle.”

“Just what I need, another shackle.” He was tired of being treated like a prisoner, and he was sick of sobriety. Even if he could take the tracker off and leave, where would he go? His house was still standing, far away in 12, but that place was just a shell. Nearly every person he cared about who was still alive was in 13. And his duty was here. He’d been waiting his whole life for this stand.

Haymitch scowled when Lex’s hands skimmed Effie’s hip as he clipped a communicator onto her belt loop.

“Look, man, this is just standard procedure. I’m not interested in touching your girlfriend.”

“I’m not his girlfriend.” “She’s not my girlfriend.” They spoke in unison, then looked at each other.

“Sorry. I just assumed... I’ll position myself in the center of the search area. Don’t wander more than 50 yards from me in any direction.”

“Or what? You’ll shoot us?” Haymitch asked.

“It’s not our policy in 13 to shoot civilians.”

“See there, even cave people can be civilized.” Effie muttered under her breath, talking mostly to herself.

“If you move too far out of range, I’ll message you through the communicator. Stay together.”

Haymitch pulled on the gloves then picked up two canvas sacks and the leaf scoops. Stay together. For a moment, it sounded better than ‘stay alive’

***

In the weeks since the bombing, the exit from 13 into the woods had been cleared and secured. Effie was grateful to not have to crawl through bent metal and broken blocks of cement.

As she stepped outside, a gust of wind whipped her in the face. It carried the fragrance of cedar, like a hope chest, and the smell of approaching rain. Dry ground indicated that none had fallen recently, and she wondered when it would come. Hopefully not before noon! She unzipped her coat just enough to reach inside and pull her sunglasses out from the pocket of her shirt. The lenses tinted the world rose. That view was more familiar.

The guard split off from them to stand watch at the top of the ridge.

“We have three sacks. Let’s fill each one with foliage of a warm color: red, orange, and yellow.” Wasting no time, Effie marched straight into the woods, following a narrow trail.

“The High Priestess of Nature is on a mission,” Haymitch teased from behind her.

Much of the vegetation around them was foreign to him. 13 was far north from the woods he’d forayed into as a boy, breaking laws in order to spend time at the lake. Other plants were the same.

“Uh, priestess... is there poison ivy in the Capitol?”

“Poison?” She stopped in her tracks, imagining a coiling plant about to sink its fangs into her. “I don’t know. What does it look like?”

He pointed to a vine near her feet, and she leaped back, nearly knocking him over. He steadied them both with a hand on her waist.

“THAT!?” she exclaimed, “Well, EVERYTHING here looks like that!”

“Because you’re taking us into a thicket of it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“I AM telling you.”

“What will it do to me?” she whispered, fearing that talking too loudly might wake it up or something.

“If you don’t touch it, then nothing.”

“What if I touch it?”

“See how the leaves are shiny? That oil gets on your clothes and transfers to your skin. It gives some people a rash that itches like hell.”

“Maybe YOU should walk in front.”

“Why? So you can look at my ass?”

“Let’s call that a side benefit to the primary goal of not getting poisoned!”

He reluctantly let go of her waist, turned around, and led them out of the thicket.

They found a wider trail and followed it to a tree with large leaves, red as cranberries. Haymitch recognized it as the same variety growing behind his house. He didn’t pay much attention to that tree at home, except when it looked like this. It’s strange... a person can be around something so often but not think about how remarkable it is until it’s changing.

The wind whipped up again, and leaves were falling like rain. Effie was already scooping them up and filling the sack she’d been carrying.

“Wait,” he said, “Look...”

“What? More poison?”

He pointed to the sky, and she tilted her face up to a shower of red. She slid the sunglasses up to her forehead so she could see the true color. Thin beams of sunlight streamed through the branches. She squinted her eyes but didn’t close them.

“In the Capitol, nature is manicured — controlled. In Capitol Park, all the trees are planted the same distance apart. When leaves fall, a crew of Avoxes carts them away before the next morning. It’s nothing like this. This is wild.”

“...And familiar.” With a gloved fingertip, he touched her windburned cheeks then pulled a red leaf from the top knot of her kerchief. Over her coat he traced from her heart to the small of her back, following the path of the tattoo buried under her layers.

The memory of him holding her there the night before was a freight train barreling through her. “Ohh... this is why we agreed to not touch each other.”

“Yeah, about that... I lied.”

The leaf scoops dropped to the ground, and she interlaced her hands behind his neck. “Just for a minute, alright? Just give me a minute...” She kissed his cut lip, soft like she’d wanted to at breakfast. “Does this hurt?”

StoppIng this is what’s gonna hurt. He kissed her like when he was trying to get her out of his system. Only he knew better now, and he kissed her anyway, slow and certain.

She felt it like madness. “My hands were on my body this morning,” she murmured, “I pretended they were yours. In all the places you touched me. Haymitch... I came so fast.”

“Jesus.”

“I’m trying to control this. But...” I’ve wondered about it so long. “I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

In defiance of gravity, he pulled back from her. “Here’s what’s going to happen... We’ll collect the leaves, and we’ll figure out the rest later. Because if you say another word now about making yourself come, then I swear I’m going to lay you down right here—“

“And you’ll fuck me. ...Say it. Tell me you will.”

He could feel himself bending to her desires. It was unsettling, and erotic. “Yeah. I will. To hell with whoever’s watching! But it’s not just the guard. It’s probably Coin; it may be Snow; it could be anybody. I’ve already shown too much of my hand out here, and the clock is ticking.”

The reminder of Plutarch’s words and of the arena made her refocus. She caressed his neck as she let go.

They channeled the intensity into the work, meandering through the woods along animal trails. Scurrying sounds in the bushes made Effie’s heart race, but she avoided a heart attack like she evaded poison ivy.

“Scurrying things are mostly lizards, field mice, and foraging birds. The real threats are the things you DON’T hear coming.”

“WHY would you say that?! With all of the words you have to choose from in this situation, THAT is what you say to me!?!”

“I’m trying to ease your mind. Good ol’ Lex is up there watching from the ridge. We’re gonna be fine.”

They scooped and clipped foliage from a dozen trees. “Every leaf we collect must be freshly fallen or plucked from the branches. Nothing brown or decomposing is acceptable.”

“Nothing decomposing?! Who’s making these rules anyway?”

“I believe you called her ‘The High Priestess of Nature’.”

“What do you think is happening to leaves when the colors change? Poetry?”

“Maybe poetry. Why not?”

“This is a deciduous forest, sweetheart. These leaves are all dying. There’s nothing poetic about it. Death is a knife in somebody’s back or poison in her veins. And then nothing.”

“If that’s all it is, then why did you tell me to watch the leaves fall? And why did we feel so alive?”

He had no answer.

***

Returning to the fortress, Effie carried a sack across her back and the scoops in her hands. He slung the other full bags over his shoulders. Neither of them had much breath left to complain about their burdens, but they talked some.

“You’re stronger than you’ve let on.”

“I used to credit cycling classes at Capitol Spin. Now it’s endless staircase climbing in *the dungeon*.”

“What about the strength inside you? Where does that come from?”

“I... I don’t know. That’s not easy for me to feel.”

I feel it. “Thanks for getting me outside today.”

“Will you come to the dining hall this afternoon?”

“I’m all thumbs when it comes to making things like garlands. My parents’ craftiness skipped my generation.”

He seldom mentioned his family. There was so much pain there. She wanted to know more. She wanted to know everything. But if she pushed, he shut down. So she took in his comments whenever they came and tried to piece together a picture of the early life his Games destroyed. The more the images came together, the more protective she felt.

And the more she knew of anger.

She’d always folded anger up tightly and locked it in a box. The act was subconscious. Compartmentalization was happening less readily now, if for no other reason than the boxes she’d stuffed unwanted aspects of herself inside were getting full.

“You don’t have to make anything... I’d just like to see you there.” I’m anxious about facing people.

“After lunch I need to check on the kids, but I’ll try to stop by later.”

“I wish Peeta was recovered enough to participate.”

“He’s decorating in his own way.”

“Is he??”

The trail widened, and Haymitch walked alongside her. “It’s Plutarch’s big secret. If I told you, then I’d have to kill you.” His smile was wide enough to show the gap between his teeth. “And that wouldn’t work because I want you alive.”

The wind rushed around them, and she thought again about how easy it would be to let it take her. “Keep those secrets for now. My world has suddenly become rather interesting. I think I’ll stay alive and find out what’s going to happen next.”

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the-hayffie-penthouse · 4 years

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Hi! On one of your prompt lists I saw 'quarantine', I know you've done some fics where Hayffie get snowed in in 12 after the war, but maybe you could do one where they're stuck in the penthouse for a reallyyyyy long time?

(Ellana here speaking: you seem to be addressing someone in particular so I will assume that’s me, the hayffie penthouse blog is for prompts for the community. if you want to prompt me specifically that still happens on my blog. This is a place to put the prompts as up for grab for anyone who wants it. just to clarify. =) )

#hayffie #prompt #anon #ask

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allonsysilvertongue · 6 years

Text

Summer Nights

Summary: At six year old, Effie Trinket was convinced that the eight year old boy with dirty blonde hair who often jostled her roughly when her mother was not looking and made her run after him in the summer heat was the best friend she needed. The same could not be said for Haymitch Abernathy.

Hello everyone, this is a hayffie au. I have done a gifset many many years ago of Haymitch and Effie knowing each other from a young age but I never did write it until this idea popped into my head about a week back. I know it sounds odd but I hope you'll give it a chance, and we can have a chill ride with the story.

Anyway, hy headcanon has always been that Effie's always six years younger than Haymitch but for this story, I have decided to shorten the age gap otherwise it'll be just creepy and I have also scaled down some timelines.

Chapter 1 – What’s the deal, Mr. and Mrs. Trinket?

Haymitch Abernathy stood by the porch, watching the car drive into the compound. As it made a turn to park, the young girl caught sight of him. Her face bloomed into a smile and she waved enthusiastically through the window.

He waved back with a grin, one hand still clutching on to his younger brother.

Next to him, his mother stood tall, dutifully waiting for the guests’ arrival.

“Hello,” Effie Trinket walked up to them.

At six year old, Effie Trinket was convinced that the eight year old boy with dirty blonde hair who often jostled her roughly when her mother was not looking and made her run after him in the summer heat was the best friend she needed. Everyone has a best friend so she was entitled to one too.

On her eighth birthday, he was still her best friend despite having already made other friends in school. It was just so unfortunate that he lived so far away and they only get to meet during the summer.

When Effie turned nine and her family made the trip down to the other end of the country where Haymitch stayed, he gave her a box. In it was a bracelet made from macaroni shells he had sneaked from the kitchen and painted over the winter.

“My birthday is over,” she told him.

“I know,” he said. “But I don’t get to see you until summer so there.”

She kept it safe in her nightstand drawer back home, too afraid to wear something so fragile lest she broke it.

At that age, Haymitch was her only male friend. It meant none of her other friends in school believed she had a friend of the opposite gender since they had never meet or seen him before. It made her mad when they started referring to Haymitch as her imaginary friend. He was as real as them, but so be it. Perhaps it was better that they had never and would never meet him. He was dear to her and the last thing she wanted was to have anyone coming to steal her best friend away like they had taken Valeria from her.

Haymitch on the other hand was quite well known in the district and had friends everywhere – girls and boys alike. He made the effort to introduce her to some of them if they happened to come around to the Village when she was there. Sometimes she was scared that he would rather spend his summer with them but he was always there to accompany her.

By the time Effie turned eleven, she thought that the now thirteen year old Haymitch Abernathy was the handsomest boy she ever met, a little rude lately but still very handsome.

“Hey, Effie,” he winked in her direction.

Rude, she thought, for him to take the liberty of using that moniker that only her grandmother called her by and only when they were alone together.

She had told him that fact one night under the startling brightness of the stars and he had declared it to be much better than Euphemia.

“Good morning, Haymitch,” she greeted him by his given name because she knew that he detest being called ‘Mitch’ and while she could have easily just call him by that to irritate him, she was fortunately raised with impeccable manners.

Haymitch flopped down on the seat next to her, immediately reaching out for the chocolate croissant he was so fond of.

“Now children,” Lysandra Trinket addressed them and from the corner of Effie’s eyes, she could see Haymitch wrinkled his nose at being called a child. “What are you both planning on doing today? Do tell so I may arrange my day accordingly…. Haymitch? I do hope you will have something interesting for my daughter today.”

That usually meant that her mother would rather have Effie’s day occupied so she would not be bothered for the rest of the day. Effie didn’t mind it that much. Haymitch was often very good at keeping her busy from morning till dinner.

Effie turned towards Haymitch expectantly. He paused in the middle of taking a bite from his half eaten croissant.

“What do you wanna do?” he asked.

“It is a hot day, isn’t it….? Swimming will be fun.”

There was a laugh threatening to burst from that annoying grin on his face that Effie was quick to get a word in before he could speak.

“I have had swimming lessons so I will not be drowning. Father made sure,” Effie huffed.

He smirked in her direction.

“Sure,” Haymitch said with a chuckle, clearly remembering the incident last summer when she had waded into the deeper end of the pool after he issued a challenge and nearly drowned. “We’ll swim.”

It was only half past ten in the morning and already, the sun was beating down on them. She already felt sticky under her armpits from the sweat. It was disturbing to know just how much she could perspire by just having breakfast outdoor.

Effie grew restless waiting for Haymitch who had disappeared right after breakfast claiming he had some homework to do. From her experience, he knew he was likely doing homework for his friends. She could never understand why he would allow his friends to pile their homework on him but when she had asked once, he said he had his reasons.

“What time are we going swimming?” she asked, opening the door to his room.

“Later,” he answered without even looking at her.

She huffed in annoyance. “When is later? It is so very rude of you to just keep me waiting…”

The only reason Effie indulged her parents in this annual summer trip all the way in this sleepy, quiet coal mining district was because of Haymitch Abernathy. Her father’s reason was solely for business while her mother, as advised by her therapist, needed the quiet reprieved every once in a while from the city and the media for all the fame attached to her name. Otherwise, Effie highly doubted that Lysandra Trinket would even agree to spend her summer here.

“Ten minutes,” he answered curtly.

Without an invitation and because she knew Haymitch wouldn’t mind, Effie sat perched on the edge of his bed. He was hunched over the small study table, scribbling on a note book.

With an impatient sighed, she flopped down on the bed unceremoniously. It earned her an amused glance from him.

“Don’t let your mother see you,” he commented, turning back to his work.

“Work faster then, before my mother catches me like this. Ladies do not behave this way and you will be sure that I will blame it on you.”

He frowned but otherwise did not respond. He hardly ever did when she pulled that card on him. At that age, she barely gave it much thought, simply assuming that like everyone else, he was afraid and wary of her mother.

“When I see you again next year, you will already be starting high school,” she remarked, staring up at the white painted ceiling. “Will you be working at the mines? Father said you will eventually.”

He stiffened, his pen poised in mid-air.

“Not yet.”

His answer was curt and his tone warned her not to pursue the topic any further.

It was odd, she thought. He didn’t seem proud of the mines like she figured he would be.

Why wouldn’t he be proud of the coal mines?

His great-grandfather who was amongst the first generations to settle in this district town years earlier had sold a large hectare of land to the Trinkets. The land was turned into a coal mine managed solely by her family.

The mine was what gave this town their livelihood and since it was his family’s contribution, Effie, without truly understanding the full history, thought that it was something he should be proud of.

Back in the city, in the Trinkets’ mansion, her father always talked about the Abernathys as if they worked for him but whenever summer came around and they took a vacation in the Abernathy’s house - a house that Haymitch’s great-grandfather received as part of the land deal - her parents often treated his family as though they were friends. Her parents’ dual behavior confused her greatly but adults, in general, were confusing. All she knew was that Haymitch is her friend and she is his, which was why she was willing to wait for him.

Effie Trinket hardly ever sat around idly waiting for people.

“Alright, come on,” he declared finally.

He grabbed the towel that was hanging around the bed post and waited until she left his room before he closed the door.

The pool was small by Effie’s standard – a grown man could only complete five broad strokes before reaching the end, which was admittedly deep as she discovered the year before. She had seen more impressive pools in the city, in other mansions and apartment buildings. When she had asked her father about the Abernathy’s pool, Stephen Trinket had scoffed derisively and claimed that they were lucky to have it in the first place. Her own grandfather, Matias Trinket, had commissioned the pool to be made for the Abernathys as a New Year gift one year when the coal mine brought in profit above the expected margin.

Of course, she had then asked Haymitch about it but he waved her question away. At times, his reaction to her questions made her form the impression that he didn’t quite like this house that his family got from hers, and she could never understand the reason for it.

“So you only learn to hold your breath and float around like a hippo?” he snorted after watching her for a few minutes.

“Do not be rude!” she snapped.

They tended to get into stupid arguments simply because he was overly frustrating and rude. She wondered if thirteen year old boys all behave like jerks.

“I’ll show you,” she turned her nose at him and proceeded to do a few breast strokes and back strokes.

He mockingly gave her a standing ovation complete with an overdramatic bow before he settled down at the spot on the grass where two overlapping tree branches provided him some shade.

“You said you’ll swim with me,” she pouted.

“I swam with you,” he replied without taking his eyes off his book. “Now I’m reading. Shush.”

“You are so boring. Really, what is so interesting about the book?”

“I’ll find out if you let me read but it’ll still be more interesting than watching you swim,” he quipped easily.

Effie ignored him after that. She practiced her moves and when she needed to catch a breath, she ended up watching him. Haymitch was on his stomach, half-naked except for the shorts he wore to swim. The sun had long dried his skin but his hair was still damp, making it looked darker than normal. Once in a while, his finger would turn a page from his book and depending on what he was reading, his brows would crease slightly as he concentrated.

“Why are you staring at me?”

She blinked.

“I wasn’t,” she denied and promptly disappeared under the water.

When she emerged, he was standing at the edge of the pool looking down at her. She didn’t realised he had grown this tall until now when she had to tilt her head back to look at him.

“I have to go to town. Get some things for mama for dinner.”

“I will go as well,” she said without missing a beat. “I do not want to be left alone. What would I do?”

By the time that summer ended, Effie’s skin had a healthy tan to it, she had gotten so much better at holding her breath under water and the one thing she was most proud of was that Lief, Haymitch’s baby brother, no longer cried when she held him.

“See you next year, Effs,” Haymitch said.

She hugged him tightly.

“I’ll miss you,” she whispered into his shoulder. “I am already counting down for summer next year.”

He released her with a smile.

Effie got into the car that would bring her family to the train station back to the city, feeling a little forlorn that time seemed to have fly past. She gave a final wave to Haymitch, his brother and his parents. They were standing in front of the wrought iron gates at the entrance of the village and as the car continued to travel, Haymitch and his family became smaller and smaller before they eventually disappeared from her line of sight when the car rounded the bend.

“You had a word with them, did you not?” her mother spoke.

Effie raised her head, thinking it was her that her mother was addressing.

“Of course,” Stephen nodded.

With that, Effie went back to staring out of the window, her hands folded nicely on her lap. The train journey back was the least favourite part of her summer.

“I made it clear that we will not provide any further finances to the mine than what we already have,” her father continued. “They are to make it safe for the coming inspection.”

“What about production?”

“I have explained that it should be maintained and if targets are not met, there will be consequences.”

Her mother laughed a little that and Effie cringed at the pitch.

“That would explain why Lachlan did not look particularly happy the past two days,” Lysandra commented.

“Be that as it may,” her father replied nonchalantly. “He has two sons to feed and put through school, and an entire town depending on him for their livelihood. He will come through.”

As curious as Effie was, her mother had always told her not to poke her nose into other people’s business, especially theirs. Whatever it was between her parents and Haymitch’s parents was their problem, not hers nor Haymitch.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #hayffie au #childhood au

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everyturnanycost · 7 years

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LIST OF RP FAVORITES AND LEAST FAVORITES ! / repost, do not reblog.

tagged by: jesus herself @othcrsidex <3

tagging: idk @mcthersguilt @certiorarias @soldiiermade @noulaikkwelnes @icymenace @oceansburned @agcntstarbuck

FIRST NAME: lucy! FAVORITE FCS TO PLAY: henry ian cusick, alan alda, colin firth, robert downey jr., woody harrelson, patrick duffy, paige turco, charles dance, aidan gillen, jeff daniels, maggie smith, mads mikkelsen, amanda abbington, sigourney weaver, jessica lange, cate blanchett, alan alda FAVORITE SHIP YOU’VE EVER HAD: hayffie, kabby, and hayniss take the cake. also trikey from gtav. fuck i love that ship. also pepperony ngl. FAVORITE FANDOM YOU’VE BEEN IN: honestly. the hunger games fandom was the greatest. it’s where i met @oceansburned & @agcntstarbuck <3 also this fandom, but the hunger games. what great people ugh FAVORITE SONG TO GIVE YOU MUSE: fuck. right now? either history has its eyes on you from hamilton or through the valley by shawn james. LEAST FAVORITE FCS TO PLAY/PLAY AGAINST: i can’t really think of any, honestly. LEAST FAVORITE RP EXPERIENCE: ummmmmmm lmao about four years ago i think when i literally lost my chill. wasn’t pretty. LEAST FAVORITE GENRE OF WRITING: honestly smut. which is why i don’t do it that often anymore. like. okay. i like writing it, but i really have to be in the mood for it and that mood is EXTREMELY fleeting. maybe a day, two or three at the MOST. so. yeah lmao. and those threads usually get dropped like that. unless the smut’s like. idk plotted out i guess. idk. i just kinda don’t really like writing it anymore whoops. LEAST FAVORITE FANDOM YOU’VE BEEN IN: ummmmmm i don’t have one???? idk i can’t think of-- oh. just kidding i can. it’s fucking d.octor w.ho lmao LEAST FAVORITE THING PEOPLE ASSUME ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER: okay i really don’t care what other people assume about marcus, if i think you’re wrong you probably are lmao but what i really don’t fucking like or what just. irks me to this day is when people still call him kane. like ok thats fine and all if we were still in season 1/part season 2. but we’re not and he’s more than just kane now so please call him marcus thank you goodbye OTHER CHARACTERS YOU’D LIKE TO PLAY: still lowkey wanna write lexa but i’m too lazy to make icons so lmao rip. also nia. but we have kelly and she’s incredible as nia so <3

MUSE PREFERENCES: females / males / canons / ocs / corrupted / good / live action / animated / human / supernatural / other species / hopeless romantic / averse to love / younger (15-25) / older (25+) / easy for you to relate to / hard for you to relate to.

PLOT IDEAS: accidentally married / affairs / age gaps ( legal though… ) / angst /apocalypse / arranged marriage / boarding school / college roommates / criminals / enemies to lovers / enemies with benefits / exes / fake relationship / fluff / forbidden relationship / friends with benefits / online relationships / pregnancy / prison / professor/student / road trips / rich kids / royalty / smut / supernatural / toxic relationships.

POSSIBLE TRIGGERS IN PLOTS YOU’RE OKAY WITH: abuse / bdsm / daddy kink ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) / drinking / drugs / dub-con / gore / incest / kidnapping / murder / non-con / prostitution / stepcest / stockholm syndrome / torture.

#trash sin daddy saintan ™ ( lucyisms )

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missppxtts-a · 7 years

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LIST OF RP FAVORITES AND LEAST FAVORITES ! / repost, do not reblog. TAGGED BY. @shewolveriine TAGGING. @snarkofstark @pianomxn @pepperpxtts & whoever wants to do it

FIRST NAME: going by Gin FAVORITE FCS TO PLAY: gwyneth, sophie turner, lena headey, elizabeth banks FAVORITE SHIP YOU’VE EVER HAD: pepperony with @snarkofstark, pepper x drew(oc) with @pianomxn, donna x doctor, time x white queen, hayffie, wisteria(oc) x legolas (bc brOTP) FAVORITE FANDOM YOU’VE BEEN IN: i honetsly think that would be Marvel, Tolkien & Doctor Who. that’s been the three i’ve been rping in the longest. FAVORITE SONG TO GIVE YOU MUSE: i have so many okay... too many to list them all but ‘ elastic heart - sia ‘ is right at the top. otherwise, 80s/90s/early 2000s songs. LEAST FAVORITE FCS TO PLAY/PLAY AGAINST: boy/girl group fcs, otherwise i couldn’t name one rn o.o LEAST FAVORITE RP EXPERIENCE: a former rp partner blackmailed and threatened a good friend of mine, and it was just a really tough time. around the same time i lost my muse for two dear muses... or: a former rp partner with the same muse as mine (who’s been a close friend of mine) pretty much ‘ stole ’ my partners so i eventually decided to drop my muse. LEAST FAVORITE GENRE OF WRITING: i just really don’t enjoy writing just one genre in one thread. that’s boring to me and makes me lose interest really quick. LEAST FAVORITE FANDOM YOU’VE BEEN IN: i wouldn’t say i have a least favorite fandom, but for me the hardest to get in and actually find partners to write with has been the tolkien fandom. LEAST FAVORITE THING PEOPLE ASSUME ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER: that pepper is oh so abusive and greedy - that she is absolutely no good for tony - and that she isn’t important at all. OTHER CHARACTERS YOU’D LIKE TO PLAY: you mean like, too many?? i’d love to write some of my former muses again like: my former alien oc, effie trinket, donna noble... but also characters like: sansa stark, narcissa malfoy, gabrielle (xena:wp), alice cullen, deanna troi, etc.

and, for the bonus round, bold whatever rp-related things appeal to you from the list below!

MUSE PREFERENCES: females / males / canons / ocs / corrupted / good / live action / animated/human / supernatural / other species / hopeless romantic / averse to love / younger (15-25) / older (25+) / easy for you to relate to / hard for you to relate to.

PLOT IDEAS: accidentally married / affairs / age gaps / angst / apocalypse / arranged marriage / boarding school / college roommates / criminals / enemies to lovers / enemies with benefits / exes / fake relationship / fluff / forbidden relationship / friends with benefits / online relationships / pregnancy / prison / professor/student / road trips / rich kids / royalty / smut / supernatural / toxic relationships.

POSSIBLE TRIGGERS IN PLOTS YOU’RE OKAY WITH: abuse / bdsm / daddy kink / drinking / drugs / dub-con / gore / incest / kidnapping / murder / non-con / prostitution / stepcest / stockholm syndrome / torture

#↳ file://directors ⇢ talk nerdy to me ( mun )#↳ file://directors ⇢ public announcement ( psa )#kinda #↳ wishlist

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ellanainthetardis · 3 years

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In thg we learn that people buy victors for pleasure and in your fics you mention that escorts are sometimes being sold too. Now, what would happen if one person had enough money and power to buy both Haymitch and Effie, at the same time, for a special assignment because they think it would be exciting to do it with twelves team? 😬😳 I am so sorry for that messed up question but I can’t shake it out of my head. Especially since it seems like the capitols are quite experimental with sex. I‘d like to tell myself that this would never happen but then again, they are literally buying victors who are underaged soo it wouldn’t be that far off to assume someone tried to do that too 🤷‍♀️

I’ve thought about that before and yeah I think it could totally happen because some people are twisted and the Gamemakers would probably not see the problem as long as the cash comes in. Plus they’re also probably aware that hayffie si already intimate so it’s not like effie can even object with that. I also more or less hc that Cashmere and Gloss have been sold as an item a few times, Finnick probably had to « team up »with other victors. So yeah. It’s a total possibility. And I think it would be awful for both of them because it’s one thing to know it’s happening to your « significant other/friend » but it’s another to SEE it and be complicit of it however reluctant you are yourself... It really the worst situation I can think of for them.

#ask #anon #meta #could apply to Brutus and Valeria too

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ellanainthetardis · 3 years

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Hello! I’ve been working my way through your incredible hayffie fanfiction archives, but I don’t have Tumblr so basically I have no idea what you’re currently up to lol! Sorry if you’ve answered this a million times before but if you don’t mind me asking - what are your future fic plans? Obviously I’m loving HADS and President Abernathy at the moment but do you have other stuff in the works (and may I impatiently ask when youre planning on publishing them lol I love your stuff I cant get enough)

What are my future plans... Hopefully survive the back to work transition haha.

Okay, so future plans. After President Abernathy, I plan on publishing the next episode of Katniss The Vampire Slayer on Sundays, aka The Cursed Episode* because it took me months to write, is currently making beta a nightmare and has no good reason to be so difficult aside for the fact it stars Gale Hawthorne who I subsequently swore would never again get anything vaguely centric.

I am hoping to get to an idea for Christmas based on Taylor's It's the damn season/dorothea but that is still in a distant future.

I have a 4/5 shot modern au that I'm not sure when I will publish because I'm not sure where it fits in the schedule tbh. It's nothing very great, just a small story about hayffie getting serious and Chaff being his usual ass.

Currently, I am in the last stretch of Mind Wipe writing (let's not kid ourselves, folks, by the way, that name is staying, I don't care if it doesn't make any sense to anyone but me at this point the WIP has been called that for too long) and the great debate was should I wait until after KTVS episode is done to publish it or move it to a Friday slot as soon as I'm done writing it... I was leaning toward that but it's not done anyway for now so the point is moot. Mind Wipe is basically a What If, where they experimented on Effie before they highjacked Peeta and she's a complete blank slate or very close to it by the time they get her back. It's been a WIP for years and I've been recently trying to finish it. Almost there. I see the light.

I also have regular prompt/os update on every Wednesday as usual.

I was ALSO, because clearly I like to make my life complicated, wondering about organizing something for the fandom soon-ish... Either a week around christmas or maybe something shorter... I was thinking maybe a game of cadavre exquis (how do you call that game in English... Rotating cadaver?) for Halloween assuming enough people were interested? I participated in one once in the Lucifer fandom and it was fun. We could do that all over October or something...

There you have it, anon :p I hope you enjoy the fics!

#ask #anon

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ellanainthetardis · 4 years

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Prompt: Could you please write something where hayffie are pretty much exclusive pre-THG and haymitch sees Effie with some kids at a games party or something and he realised that she’d probably be quite a good mother even though he’d written off her ever wanting kids because he always thought she’d be too self centred and assumed she’d never want them

Speaking of Hayffie Children, don’t miss the new story this Friday! ‘When it rains, it pours’ !

Also, there is now a prompt blog over on tumblr for the hayffie community, you can find it at @the-hayffie-penthouse and it’s a place where you can leave prompts or pick up inspiration if you want it. It’s open to everyone, tumblr users or not, so come and take a look if that interests you!

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #prompt #games time #chaff #coconuts friends #lyssa #funny one #it's so general i'm not sure how to tag this lmao

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ears-awake-eyes-opened · 4 years

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Intoxication (Part 1)

(Sensual Hayffie experimenting with emotional drugs as an alternative to forced sobriety in District 13. Film-Hayffie is where I feel the magic so that’s who I’m writing. There will be at least one or two more parts to this fic. Potentially NSFW, depending on your sensitivities.)

Surface explosions shook the bunker. Deep underground, Effie had no idea how the Capitol’s attack on 13 would not bury them. The room was dimly lit and cold. The air in there was thin, thinner than the childhood summer day when her family took a tram high into the Rocky Mountains.

That trip had been for show. The picnic was secondary to the statement it made that the Trinkets could afford any luxury, even though they actually couldn’t. They had to pick and choose among extravagances. Her parents created facade over facade. That’s how some people survived in the Capitol. Effie learned this from a young age.

Now she was leagues away from that early life, learning a different way to survive the current one, which didn’t feel much like a life.

She sat on the edge of a dusty bunk that she wouldn’t dare describe as a bed. She’d get no sleep tonight with missiles exploding up above and old springs in the mattress cutting into her ass from below. She focused on keeping her spine long and holding herself up with grace.

A lady never slouches or cowers. Manners can’t protect one from discomfort or fear, but discomfort and fear shouldn’t be excuses for poor posture!

She closed her eyes to the sound of the bombs and imagined instead being in that mountain meadow. Flowers were in abundance then. Reds and pinks, blues and purples, yellows and oranges, and so much green. They had a quality unlike any of the hues her mother dressed her in or she saw around her in Capitol city life. The colors of the flowers were real.

Sitting up straight and reminiscing about bygone days didn’t stop her from shivering in this grey existence. “I need a drink,” she sighed, “Red wine would be JUST the thing in this moment. So very red.”

“Join the club, sweetheart.” The bunk jostled as he sat down beside her. “When we get out of this fortress of prohibition, the first round of liquor is on me.”

Effie kept her eyes closed, but her body relaxed in Haymitch’s presence.

He watched the corners of her mouth turn up. He watched her soften. He enjoyed the way he affected her and the way she pretended that he didn’t.

“You know, in detox they talked about the nucleus accumbens.” He put the emphasis on “cum”.

She opened her eyes, preparing herself for an onslaught of crudeness disguised as humor, or perhaps the other way around.

“AcCUMbens?” She took the bait with intention and threw it back at him sarcastically. Banter with Haymitch was not a bad distraction from the potential of tons of steel and concrete collapsing on them.

“It’s the reward center of the brain.” He reached around the ridiculous turban she wore and caressed her nape. He had no idea where in the brain the nucleus accumbens actually was, but he wanted to touch her, so he did what he wanted. “It floods with dopamine under the right conditions. Alcohol for sure. But there are other ways to induce the flood.”

His hand fell away from her neck. She wanted it back there, but she wouldn’t admit it. “I expect you’re going to tell me these ways.”

“Well, if you want a lesson...” He folded his fingertips over the edge of the mattress close to her thigh, but he didn’t touch her, much to her annoyance.

Effie lowered her voice. “As much as I appreciate your SELFLESS offer to help me *flood* my body with... dopamine, I’ll pass.”

“I said your brain, sweetheart.” He caught her gaze and held it, lowering his voice too. “Me flooding your body would be a means to an end. It could be as simple as that.”

“Simple?? You think it would be simple?”

“Getting you off...” He slid his pinky an inch and touched her thigh. The contact went straight to her core. “...Yeah, I think it would be pretty simple.”

He was right. Damn him. “Ha! Tasteless. And you assume too much.”

“I’ve kissed you, honey, and you’re far from tasteless.” He wouldn’t mind tasting her again, right now. This conversation alone was flooding him, and he was barely touching her.

“I meant your remark was tasteless, barnarian.” She glanced around to see if anyone was listening to their mutterings. It was a selfish concern. Any faces close enough to see in this relative darkness were filled with dread.

She felt it too, and Haymitch noticed the shift in her. “Hey.” He touched her chin and guided her focus back to him. Her skin was smooth without makeup. Naked. He lingered a moment before letting go. “You’re gonna be okay, you know. This will pass.”

What will pass? The bombs on the roof or this one inside my chest that never goes away? Effie left the words unspoken and curled her hand over his leg instead — not low by his knee, but high, tracing the seam to his groin. She stopped there, drawing shapes on his inner thigh with her fingernails as she whispered in his ear, “These cave dwellers make clothes with too much fabric. Wouldn’t you say?”

He felt the tug of her touch even in the places she wasn’t quite touching. He hadn’t fucked anyone in a long time, and his voice was thick with swallowed sensation. “I’d say yes.”

Effie’s lips brushed below his ear. “Yes about the clothes?”

“Yes to anything, preferably with fewer clothes.”

He followed her lead, tracing the same path along her leggings, but taking it further. His thumb found its mark, and he stroked her until the fabric was damp. It didn’t take much. It had been awhile for her too without sex.

“Wait...” She protested, breathless and not withdrawing. “Not here. Not in this pit of hell.”

He paused, keeping his thumb right where it was. “Are you sure?” He murmured into her mouth. “I could make you come right now, so quiet.”

“Haymitch! I don’t like to be quiet.” Her words were demanding against his lips. “And I don’t want MY pleasure competing with bombs. This is too surreal.”

This was indeed surreal. For the reasons she said, and because he was buzzed. Haymitch was buzzed without a drop of alcohol. He could feel humming in his veins as if she’d struck him like a tuning fork. Effie was taking the edge off his craving for liquor, and he wanted more of her.

“Fair enough.” He moved his thumb, circled around her hip and held her there. “I don’t want your pleasure competing with anything except for mine, sweetheart.”

“Men! Must everything be a game to you?”

“This is one you’ll want to play.”

The bomb ticked in her chest. She was playing already. She leaned into the warmth of him and continued the tease along his thigh; after all, he hadn’t asked HER to stop. He wanted her, and she was already getting off on his desire.

The anticipation was as intoxicating for him as her touch. He’d wait. Effie was the impatient one. He knew he wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

The bombs couldn’t drop forever. Not even the Capitol arsenal would outlast whatever was happening between him and her.

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